Jax smiles. "Now, come on. Get over whatever lovebird squabble you have. It's time for us to make some money. This is going to be my last run, and you're not going to disappoint me this time." He focuses on Wyatt.
Wyatt scowls at him, accusing, "You weren't the only one disappointed."
Jax arches his eyebrow in surprise. "Really? What did I do? I trained you. I placed you in the right rodeos. I made sure you had everything you needed. I even kept your little secret from everyone."
Wyatt stays silent.
Jax points at him. "You screwed it up. You made the decisions that led you here."
Wyatt grunts. "Then why do you want me back on your team?"
"Ah, see, that's the thing," Jax says, the curve of his lips arcing more.
I put my hand over my stomach, still reeling that Jax knew about Wyatt and me.
Jax drops a bomb. "There is no team. We're going independent."
Wyatt scoffs. "We'd be at zero for sponsorships."
Jax shrugs. "So? You've got nothing now. You're already at zero."
"Not if I join a team," Wyatt points out.
I speak up. "Jax, with all due respect, I have a team. You know how my business runs. This doesn't fit my model."
The wrinkles around Jax's eyes deepen. "Willow, you're one of the best agents I've seen. You're still learning, but there's no doubt you've got the gift. And I know this doesn't exactly fit into your business plan, but you'll figure it out."
"Please, I can refer you to some other agents that would be better for this."
He shakes his head. "No. You're going to do it, Willow. And, Wyatt, you're not going to disappoint either of us this time."
Wyatt says nothing. Anger radiates from him. His fist clenches near his thigh. He declares, "I'm not doing it."
"You are. You have no other choice," Jax reiterates.
"You don't know that," Wyatt asserts.
Jax nods toward me. "Ask your girlfriend."
"Don't call me his girlfriend," I blurt out.
Jax holds a hand up. "Apologies. Ask Willow. She'll tell you. The pool isn't that big. You're out of options besides this one. Isn't that true, darlin'?"
My gut rolls over and over and over, as if somersaulting down a snowy hill.
Wyatt doesn't move.
"Go ahead, turn toward her and ask," Jax challenges.
Wyatt still doesn't say anything. He scoots his chair back, rises, and says to me, "I'll meet you in the car when you're done with this." He moves toward the door.
"I didn't say you were dismissed," Jax calls out.
Wyatt flings open the door. The cold air rushes through the small space.
Jax barks, "Practice starts tomorrow at noon. We'll give the bulls some time to warm up."
Wyatt disappears and slams the door shut.
